


Sasha shorts.

by ForgottenChesire



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:50:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1736966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenChesire/pseuds/ForgottenChesire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasha likes to keep up a charade of happiness but she isn't happy. Not in the inside. But then again who cares how Potato girl feels?</p>
<p>This is where I shall be putting my sad Sasha fcis and maybe one funny one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hiding

**Author's Note:**

> Superkrey on tumblr gave me the idea of no one really takes her seriously just because she's potato girl.

"P-please don’t… I cannot anymore…" her voice is soft lost in the wind as the storm rages on around her. Every time she closes her eyes she sees the same thing, death. Her hands claw at her ears and she rocks, back and forth, trying to rid her mind of the images. Images of things that have happened and things she fears will happen. Brown eyes stare in front of her unseeing and red as tears drip down her face. She joined the Survey Corps in hopes of helping, of doing some good in the world. For once her stomach doesn't beg for food, doesn't remind her that if she gets out of her hiding spot that there is food just waiting for her to steal it, to eat it. They won't go away, their faces forever frozen in horror in pain, they who never take her seriously. She hears the whispers and not so whispers. “Potato Girl.” That's what they call her, not Sasha, not friend. Potato Girl because she couldn't fight back the constant throbbing in her stomach and stole a potato. True she could have chosen a better time to eat it but she was so very hungry. Food was scarce everywhere, even in villages where you could hunt because the hunter could easily become the hunted. They're not in training anymore, one would think that the others would act that way. A shiver runs down her spine as the wind changes directions, the rain that couldn't hit her now spraying her in the face. She'll get sick if she stays out longer but she needs to gather herself. She needs to replace her mask that's been chipped, cracked, stepped on. No one sees and that's what she wants. Even if she cannot take it anymore she wants the others to continue on. Connie, Jean, Armin, Krista, Ymir, Mikasa, Eren they all deserve so much. They deserve to be happy. She does too, she knows that, everyone deserves it but so few get it. Scrubbing hard at her eyes she crawls out from the three crates stacked just right to give her a place to hide. Lifting her face up she lets the rain soak her. She has a mask of happiness, a mask that keeps the others smiling. She's just Potato Girl, she's not serious about anything. Probably a few potatoes short of a salad. Comic relief. She doesn't have nightmares, she isn't affected by all the death.

“Maybe if I keep saying it, it'll become true,” she whispers walking back to the girls barracks. An excuse at her lips she opens the door, ready to defend her choice of actions, _I smelt something yummy coming from the mess hall_ , she's relieved to see everyone is asleep. Sometimes she wishes she had someone like Krista does, envies how Ymir has no problem wrapping her arms around the petite blond. Sometimes she envies Mikasa, so strong, so beautiful, so sure of everything and blessed with two people who would die for her. Slowly she strips out of her soaked clothing and into her sleep clothes. Morning will bring light but not joy, just another day. Just another day of hearing Potato Girl. _But_ , she thinks, _it could be so much worse._


	2. The Price Of Food

"I promise I won’t do it again! I promise, please," she begs her voice is hoarse from sobbing. Her father just shakes his head, there won't be leniency this time. They caught her red handed. The whip cracks in the air and she bows her head tears falling down. They say she should be happy they aren't taking her hand, that they decided to be merciful. Ten lashes and half rations. Merciful she wants to scream, to shout, to beg. She's barely had enough to fill her stomach as it was and now they're taking more away? The food she stole hadn't been for her either.

“Stealing is wrong, we must not eat more than our fair share,” her father says to the crowd “Anyone, _**anyone**_ , caught stealing will be punished. Sasha count the lashes.”

And with that the whip hits her back. She chokes back a scream, she can see the scared sad blue eyes of the one she stole for staring at her.

“O..one!”

The child is an orphan...”T..two!!” left alone, one of the many refugees that flooded in when Wall Maria fell. Her shoulders are shaking as the man wielding the whip seems to pause. “Ah!!! Three, four!!!”

Her heart had went out to the little one, well he wasn't so little anymore and she had befriended him quickly. Food was... “F...five!” scarce, scarcer than before when they barely had enough to dull the throbbing. Few were brave enough to out and hunt, the cowards. She had no problems and neither did her father “Six!” maybe that's why he's in charge. Her back hurts, her knees hurt but she won't regret what she did. She won't. They have only caught four times out of the numerous times before. “Seven!”

Neil, Neil is his name and he's mute. Never once uttered a word during the years she befriended him, talking to her through writing then later a sign language they made up. She sees him wipe away tear, tugging on his long choppy brown hair and she wants to make him feel better, wants to tell him not to cry.

“Eight... Nine... Ah! Ten.”

Her hands are untied and her father kneels down next to her, there is no sadness, no remorse in his eyes.

“Sasha you must stop this. I don't know if I can keep letting you off so lightly...”

He leaves her and Neil rushes up his hands moving quickly asking about her health but her mind is starting to go black. The once hellfire like pain that was her back is now dull. _Lightly_ is her last thought before she gives into unconsciousness.


	3. Breaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her carefully constructed mask falls

It starts with a twitch, a slight twitch in her finger that spreads to the whole hand. She tries to hide it, places her hand behind her back. Her face stays straight, with a smile that is from cheek to cheek but doesn't reach her eyes. No one seems to notice her rising ire. They're tossing food around not bothering to pick it up when it hits the ground and what hurts the most is that it's _Connie_ who is leading this horrid waste. She stands up slowly, her head bowed, her back aching as old scars stretch and memories sneak into her vision. Connie thinking she wants to join in throws a handful of mash potatoes at her. Cries of “Ooooo, Potato Girl is covered in her own kind” ring out when she doesn't dodge. Calmly, at least she tries to be calm her hands are shaking, she wipes the mess off. She laughs softly.

“Real funny Con, ya got me,” she mutters before quickly leaving the mess hall. She can feel her mask creaking. Her breathing is hard, her eyes burning, body moving towards her hiding place she stumbles and falls. It's stupid, she tells herself that she's getting so worked up. Eyes squeezed shut she hits the ground.

“Potato Girl?”

Sasha glances up eyes hard she spots Jean looking confused.

“What Jean?”

“Are you okay?”

For a moment she thinks he cares, that maybe they aren't as bad as the dark voice in the back of her mind says they are but his next words wipe that away.

“I mean you just left. I would bet that _you_ Potato Girl would have been all over it.”

Visions of Neil clutching his stomach, tears streaming down his face as the pain becomes too much. Of pounding on his door for what feels like hours and finally finding away in to find him pale, unmoving, unbreathing, so fucking skinny that she could count every bone in his body. Her hand moves before she can comprehend what she doing. It's only when her knuckles are hurting that she realizes that she's punched him. Horror blooms on her face and she covers her mouth feeling sick.

“Jean, oh god Jean I'm... I'm...So sor....”

"Just get out of my sight!" Jean shouts and she doesn't need to be told twice. She runs to her hiding place, curls up into a ball and sobs, voiceless, soundless. Don't bring attention to yourself. _I'm sorry Neil._


	4. Dark in the Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It whispers in her ear everything she already knows but it doesn't make it hurt any less

_"You’re a disgrace!"_ She knows it doesn't have to keep telling her that. She knows she'll never amount to much, she's just Potato Girl. She couldn't keep the one person she let deep into her heart alive. She's a disgrace and she won't fight to prove otherwise. It's late at night and she's in the showers scrubbing hard at her body. She can't get the blood off, _**it won't come off, why won't it come off!!?**_ Tears are falling down her face and her skin is red but she won't stop scrubbing. _“You're a disgrace, unworthy of the blades you wear at your hip,”_ The dark voice hisses into her ear.

“I know,” she whispers back sinking to her knees and letting the cold water run over her. Dimly she reaches up and turns off the water. No sense in wasting it... _“The others can't wait until you're gone. Jean especially. He still hasn't forgiven you has he?”_

“No...”

_“Do you blame him? He could have gotten into the Military Police and you sullied him with your hands. You not only touched him but hit him. You're a thief and a pig.”_

“Please stop... I know this...”

_“If you know this why do you keep trying to make them smile? Why do you keep pretending?”_

“Because they deserve to be happy.”

“Sasha? Who are you tal... Holy fuck what happened to your back?”

Sasha's head snaps up and she turns around to see Ymir standing in the doorway. Her eyes narrowed and staring at the scars on her back. She turns around quickly, slipping on the still wet floor. A soft cry escapes her throat and she fights off Ymir's attempts to help.

“Please, don't look. Don't touch me...” she whispers haggardly before running off.

**Author's Note:**

> You can suggest scenarios you want Sasha to go through if ya want.


End file.
